Tuesday, October 31, 2023

Swiftly off the bandwagon

About 10 years ago, I rather inexplicably bought tickets to a Katy Perry concert. Inexplicable because I only knew a couple of her songs and could not legitimately claim to be a KatyCat (this was well before Left Shark definitively wooed me to Katy's fanbase). I bought Katy's tour-promoted album to pre-game a bit, and quickly found myself tapping my middle-aged feet to pretty much every piece of bubblegum "PRISM" had to offer. Katy’s in-crowd dance party disguised as a concert ended up being one of the very most entertaining concerts I have ever been to (another contender: Pink Martini).

So it was with that spirit of pop music adventure that I announced to Rob that I wanted to see Taylor Swift’s “The Era’s Tour” movie documentary. This time, though, the desire was more explicable since Taylor is seemingly on the verge of ruling Planet Earth. Seems prudent to at least have a working knowledge of someone whose influence I’m not sure is escapable at this point.

With the ability to sing along to exactly two Taylor Swift songs, I sat next to Rob in seat G8 (since when must I choose my seat before entering a movie theater?!) and dedicated 168 minutes of my life to figuring out what all the fuss is about.

With apologies to the (admittedly younger) Swifties in my life: I’m still waiting.

I really wanted to walk out of the theater an in-the-know, gushing, glittery fan of Ms. Swift’s, all ready to learn how – and why – to make grade school friendship bracelets, and add the Kansas City Chiefs' remaining games to my DVR timers list.

Instead, I quickly remembered why I don’t see long movies in theaters (my back spasmed for about 3 days from all the squishy, cup-holdered sitting). And I was exhausted from all the active listening to decipher nearly 3 hours of songs that tell a Millennial’s life stories.

I had heard some screenings are like a modern-day Rocky
Horror experience, with movie-goers singing and dancing 
in the aisles. Alas, an afternoon show on a weekday yielded
less than a dozen viewers -- none dancing or singing.
Also, our tickets were "Child" prices. I didn't want to ask
if that was the matinee price or the senior discount.

Although Taylor’s music sort of bounces around genres, I determined that her songs have a bit of a formula which – sorry again, Swifties – got really repetitive and I found myself getting sleepy. I perked up at the 2-hour mark when she FINALLY played one of the two songs in my iTunes Library (“Shake It Off”). Never did hear the other one (“Mine”).  

I was also super surprised that her lyrics include cuss words. Now, I’m not saying Taylor’s a potty mouth; I was just startled to hear the f-bomb and poop word in songs worshipped by 9-year-old girls. Do their parents know? Do they care?

As unenthralled as I was by Taylor’s music, I am very much impressed by what appears to be her character. I remember hearing over the summer that she was giving extraordinarily generous bonuses to her road crew, as a thank you for all their work to pull off one of the most lucrative concert tours in history. I have also heard she is ingeniously re-recording a number of her albums in order to yank back control of them from a seemingly greedy and slimy record label. During her concert, she sprinkled words of gratitude and appreciation over her fans, dancers, and musicians. And although not as deftly as Katy Perry, Taylor also did an admirable job of making her adoring concert fans feel like they were in a special, elite club made especially for them.

But perhaps the thing that made me put the formulaic music aside and fall just a tiny bit in love with Taylor Swift was this:


Although it’s hard to see in the photo, the polish on one of Taylor’s fingernails is smudged. Big time. Like, I would have seethed a few of Taylor’s lyrics and grumbly redone that nail if it were mine. 

But instead, Taylor – who knew she would be on camera for the filming of the concert and no doubt oversaw the editing – didn’t fix her nail polish nor allowed it to be fixed in post-production. Nope. Taylor let her short, smudged fingernail grip the microphone and flash about in close ups. That one smudged nail made her so relatable. A busy young woman who wants to look nice but also has many things competing for her time, so some things just don’t get done...like her nails.  

Although I am not on the Taylor Swift Bandwagon – and am growing weary of her persistent presence in my newsfeed (serves me right for clicking on those two stories about her new boyfriend) – there could certainly be worse pop idols for folks to get all obsessed over. Taylor seems smart, savvy, gracious, and real. With a smudged nail and a few cuss words to prove it.

 

Wednesday, October 4, 2023

Waltzing through Tennessee

Next up on “Trips We Said We’d Take Someday”: Nashville!

Yes, Nashville.

I have wanted to visit Music City since the mid-90s when I saw it from a window seat on a very clear cross-country flight one October. My interest was stoked about a decade later when we had a Southwest Airlines layover and walked between two distant BNA gates. The live music, the friendly vibe, and palpable energy of just the airport alone made me want to check out what awaited outside Security.

Last week, Rob and I finally realized a decades-held dream and Did Nashville. With a side trip to Memphis. Because Elvis.

The Grand Ole Opry has been in this location
since 1974. The architecture told us that before
the brochure did.

Overall, I would say it was a very good trip but it wasn’t a great trip. I had pretty high expectations, especially since every.single.person I mentioned our travel plans to said, “I LOVE NASHVILLE!” I had no idea I knew so many people who had visited Nashville nor that I was so dang late to the party.

But, unfortunately, Rob and I weren’t at our physical best during the trip. We were both already exhausted by lots of activity and responsibilities at home (we absolutely suck at retirement), plus Rob was navigating a bout with vertigo. It was gone by the time we boarded the plane in Portland, but we didn’t know that for sure until days later. So we were rather tentative most of the trip and I did a lot more driving than I typically do.

Adding to the disappointment was the realization that tours of the Grand Ole Opry were cancelled for the week due to preparations for a People’s Choice Country Music awards show featuring very few people Rob and I had ever heard of. And that was the last little bit of rain on our Tennessee parade: we aren’t county music fans. Yes, we knew that. But I didn’t quite grasp how much not knowing Jelly Roll from a jelly donut would dampen our appreciation of All Things Nashville. But despite all that, we did have a fun time. I just didn’t fall in love with the city like I expected to.

The closest we got to the Grand Ole
Opry, as seen through a glass door.
Security guard out of frame to the left.

We were able to hit most of the Required Touristy Highlights including Opryland, the Ryman Theater, Music Row, the Johnny Cash Museum, the County Music Hall of Fame, Broadway and its Honky Tonks, and a trolley tour which took us by the Parthenon replica and Vanderbilt University allowing us to admire both from a distance.

An unplanned detour back to our outskirts hotel one night took us through a swanky neighborhood inhabited by Reese Witherspoon and Faith Hill and her husband (I only know Ms. Hill by her 1999 crossover hit “Breathe” – her husband is apparently also famous and wears a cowboy hat a lot? He, however, is NOT the guy married to Nicole Kidman who has a boy's version of Jennifer Aniston's hairdo. For some reason I always get those two dudes confused. Is one of them named Kenny??). That Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous interlude was sort of fun and once again proved the value of unlimited data allowing for on-the-spot critical research while sitting in the passenger seat.

The Opryland Resort reminded me 
of the Venetian and Parisian hotels
in Las Vegas, minus the casinos. Lots
of indoor plants and shops and restaurants
and walkways. And...boat rides. It 
was expansive and clearly best enjoyed
on a company expense account. SO
many conference lanyards!

Inside the Ryman Auditorium - the location of the
Grand Ole Opry from 1943 to 1974. It is actually 
a church with great acoustics - and old wooden
pews for seating. It had a very authentic feel.

The Microphone in the Ryman
-- also called The Pulpit


Minnie Pearl helped make the Grand
Ole Opry and the Ryman famous.
The actress who played her was very
highly educated, trained, and
generously philanthropic. 

My only photo from Music Row. This is an 
uncharacteristically professional building
for the street of recording studios. Most of the
studios were in small, old houses. It was
clearly an old neighborhood turned Street of Dreams.

I didn't take any photos in the Johnny Cash
Museum. However, highlights included
conclusively learning Johnny did NOT
serve any prison time, and deciding the
best format for music is vinyl at 78 rpm.
Very cool display with one of Johnny's songs
played on the various formats. CD was surprisingly
boring, and re-engineered digital was horrific. I
liked the depth of sound on the 78 rpm without the
staticy hiss of the slower speeds. 

There wasn't anything in the 
Country Music Hall of Fame 
that prompted me to take a photo.
However, one display for the 
lead singer of Hootie and the Blowfish
had a song playing that I liked. I 
asked Siri to identify it so I could buy
the mp3. I had no idea this was a cover of
a song originally recorded by Bob Dylan
in the early 1970s. Apparently I like old country music?

Broadway in broad daylight.

We enjoyed some decidedly regional cuisine. Our first dinner was at Hattie B’s Hot Chicken. This Nashville must-eat was apparently inadvertently invented by a pissed off gal trying to exact culinary revenge on her cheatin’ boyfriend. She made him fried chicken but doused it with every hot spice and pepper she could find in her pantry. Unfortunately for her, the jerk loved it and turned it into a livelihood.

Hot chicken, mac n cheese, and slaw.
Mmmm! One of the spices seemed to 
be cinnamon. I liked it but it was 
sort of odd mixed in with the cayenne and 
chili pepper.

My favorite meal of the trip was at Robert’s Western World – a fixture of a honky tonk on the very noisy and lively Broadway. Think Bourbon Street with cowboy hats. The street was loud and peopled enough at noon that we never felt the need to venture back after 10pm. Live county music, laughter, and restaurant clinking sounds came from every doorway and open window. The energy was pretty electrifying!

Ever the introverts, we snagged a table
upstairs so we could enjoy the honking
and tonking from a distance. We so
thoroughly enjoyed the Chis Casello Trio
that we bought their CD on the way out.
They were incredibly good and we had a
hard time imagining who might top them
later in the evening.  To quote Rob, "They ruined
live music for me forever." Truly, it was exactly
the experience I wanted -- very local food in a 
very local bar listening to very local music.

We decided on Robert’s for dinner because of a famed “Recession Special” – a fried bologna sandwich, a PBR beer, and a Moon Pie for dessert…all for only $6! Drawn much more by the redneckiness and less by the $6, I was thrilled to discover fried bologna on Wonder Bread is pretty dang tasty! Made even more exotic by the tiniest hint of horseradish. I already knew I didn’t like Pabst Blue Ribbon (an ironic favorite in Portland), but it did pair rather nicely with the lunch meat. The Moon Pie, on the other hand, was just gross. I was hoping for so much more. It was Peep-like marshmallow filling between two sawdusty cookies covered in a light film of cheap chocolate. The wrapper suggested heating it up in the microwave for “an out-of-this-world dessert!” I doubt it. The adorably named competitor “Goo Goo Cluster” impulsively procured at the airport was MUCH better.

Not the best photo -- the lighting was
challenging. But enough to get an idea
what a fried bologna sandwich looks like.
And is Gen X the only generation that sings
while they spell b-o-l-o-g-n-a?

As mentioned, we didn’t limit our Tennessee fun to Nashville. Nope. We also spent one VERY long day driving to and from Memphis (6 hours of driving) for All Things Elvis. While I wouldn’t call myself a huge Elvis fan, I do enjoy his music (especially the early stuff) and I respect his place in history. My most distinct memory of him is the day he died (I was 9) and being confused why so many grown ups were crying. After having now visited Graceland, I get it.

I had done very little research about Graceland, other than to buy tickets online for the self-guided house and airplanes tour. I was expecting a grand mansion tucked away on sprawling acreage with lots of security, and a properly appointed gift store housed in a garage or servants’ quarters. The private aircraft would be in a private hangar somewhere on the property. The décor would be expensive and flashy, sort of King-like.

Instead, Graceland was a total 1977 time warp situated on a busy street (named Elvis Presley Blvd) with neighbors just over the fence. Although the house itself is over 17,000 square feet, it did not feel even half that. Of course, the public is not allowed upstairs where the bedrooms and bathrooms are. There were a couple of outdoor buildings serving as an office and a gym and racquetball court. There was a small reflecting pool “Meditation Garden” where Elvis, his parents, his daughter, and a grandson are buried. And there were some horses and stables. So yeah, typing all that it does sound like an extensive and extravagant lifestyle. But it just didn’t feel like it. It felt homey and kitschy and very personal. It felt “of the people” – like a small-town boy hit the jackpot but kept a sense of where he had come from. Graceland was probably the most iconic home I have ever been in and it was so incredibly unique that I fell in love with it purely for what it represents. And the monkey.

Pretty much the whole house, minus the basement.
Piglet on steps for size reference.

I was both stunned and delighted to see this kitchen.
It took me right back to the '70s. I'm certain there
is Tupperware in the cabinets. I was struck by how
middle class it looks. Not at all what I expected
royalty to make banana and peanut butter sandwiches
in (I had one for lunch in one of the themed restaurants. I
liked it but I did NOT like the bacon grease it was
fried in. Eeeew. A local gal absolutely could not believe
I don't have a jar of bacon grease for cooking. I
explained that would require me cooking bacon, which
I don't. I'm pretty sure her head is still shaking.)

I think my mouth literally fell open when
I entered The Pool Room. The ceiling and walls
are covered in very carefully folded fabric in a
vortexy pattern. Oooh, vertigo.

The TV room, with a bar out of photo range.
Elvis loved watching football and had 3 TVs
so he could watch multiple games at once.
There was no explanation for the monkey.
Called "The Den" by Elvis and "The
Jungle Room" by the media, this room
was a trip. The brick wall is a waterfall.

The ceiling was carpeted. It deadened
noise so well, Elvis recorded an album
in here. Can't imagine where he sat -
absolutely none of the seats looked sittable.

As for the aircraft and gift shop, those were across the street in a Downtown Disney-like campus of restaurants, stores, and exhibits. Merchandised within an inch of its life, each aspect of Elvis’s life had its own gift shop. One focused on movies, another on his airplanes, another on his car collection, and oh, right, one focused on his music.

Two-story exhibit walls displayed awards – probably not all of them. There was one room dedicated to showcasing Elvis’s stage jumpsuits. Another room had lots and lots of boxes in locked display cases, all numbered and categorized in the archives. Some items were out of their boxes, giving a highly unique peek into The King’s life. It was a trip and I was fascinated.

Just one wall of several.

Just one wall of several. I LOVED
this room and how the iconic costumes
were displayed. I also learned that when 
Elvis played Vegas, he wore only white
jumpsuits so the lighting techs could
switch colors on him without him 
needing wardrobe changes. Brilliant!

Of note: Elvis had his own fountain drink
dispenser. Also, Tab.
I guess when you are a legend, even
the most mundane items are worth
archiving for posterity.

That time Elvis didn't like what was
on TV.

As I mazed my way through the exhibits and artifacts, my appreciation for Elvis’s place in history grew. I found myself marveling at the impact of a single man – on music, on people, on the world. Indeed, there was an entire exhibit of clothing and instruments belonging to other musicians with plaques expressing how Elvis inspired and influenced their lives and music.

We had started our tour of Memphis at Sun Records – the recording studio where Elvis recorded his first of many records on the label. Like Graceland, the studio was a time warp. Unlike Graceland, it is still in use with recording artists using the studio and its assortment of instruments in the wee hours after the tourists have left.

Unexpectedly small and modest.

The Sun recording studio was a small, linoleumed, unassuming space steeped in rock-n-roll history. Our tour guide was a musician who could barely believe her day job was to hang out in The Place Where Rock Began. I could barely believe I was allowed to stand there without glass or ropes and try to soak in the significance of the room. Between Sun Records and Mission Control in Houston, this has been quite a year of historic rooms!

Pretty much the entire room where
music history was made.

When we learned the Grand Ole Opry was closed for the week, and Rob was only at about 60% capacity, I assumed we would be making a second trip to Nashville someday. But, honestly, I think we did and saw and ate all that we really wanted to and could appreciate. I apparently know a lot of county western music fans.

Actually, I CAN envision a perfect return to Nashville: a concert by Darius Rucker in the Ryman with a 2-night stay at the Opryland Resort paid for by someone else. With a fried bologna sandwich for dinner, hold the Moon Pie.


Monday, August 14, 2023

THE FINAL FAIR DAY

We were about 75% of the way home last night when the first tear finally eked out. By the time we arrived in Woodhaven’s garage, my mascara was smeared down my cheeks. I should have remembered to wear the waterproof stuff on the Final Fair Day.

I surprised myself last year by not crying at the end of My Beloved Fair. I concluded it was because I wasn’t utterly exhausted and had finally figured out how to Fair Well. Always dedicated to being a good student, I took last year’s fairing lessons to heart and therefore did not expect to be a sobbing mess in the passenger seat last night. And yet.

I ended up staying up until about 1:00am. I didn't want to go to bed because I didn't want the day to end and for My Fair to be over. Even after finally tucking myself in and getting a solid 8 hours of sleep, I’m still mopey and wistful. I tried to cheer myself up with a pedicure today, and I’ve promised myself a healthy, fibery entrée salad for dinner. But I’m still truly sad and teary that My Fair is over. I am not ready to return to The Real World and adulting just yet.

As we were saying goodbye last night to Adam the Great (a magician who fills my Instagram feed with energy and fun @adamthegreatmagic), Adam said he was heading off to northern Idaho for the Coeur d’Alene Fair. A big part of me was ready to pack up and follow him. I’m exhausted, I feel puffy, quite an array of body parts ache, I have bruises I don’t remember acquiring, my fingernails are a disaster, and I forgot what my hair looks like without a baseball hat. But I don’t want it to end!

My Fair is a wonderful escape. It is simple. It is sweet. It is traditions. It is kids and animals and homemade creations. It is laughter and cheering. It is strolls through animal barns and respites on benches. It is sunsets and warm evening breezes. It is seeing old friends. It is making new ones. Every year, I become more a part of My Fair and it nuzzles deeper into my heart. My adoration grows each year, making saying goodbye that much harder.

We spent yesterday wandering around trying not to melt, and were quite happy to have the 2:00pm – 6:00pm shift in the Crafts & Hobbies department. A chair, air conditioning, artsy craftsy things to look at…pretty cool volunteer gig on a 100-degree day!

Hey, there's my hair! Definitely 
NOT blonde despite what that
Influencer Sunglasses Woman claimed.

We made some new friends yesterday! We shared a lunch table in the Wizard’s area with Janet and Roy (btw, the Wizard’s area was a home run! There were people in there all fair long, having a blast! Including in that awful vortex thingy.) Janet and Roy are both probably about 80 years old and have lived in Clark County pretty much their whole lives. I LOVED hearing where old roads and buildings and businesses used to be in my not-as-small-as-it-used-to-be town, and how Janet’s dad helped build some of the barns on the Fairgrounds. I told the couple that, having now been in Clark County for over 19 years, I often feel like an old-timer, especially with so many new people moving into all the new homes that are replacing fields and pastures. But hearing their stories and descriptions of how things really used to be – and knowing people who now have roads named after them – I realize I am still a total newbie.

It's been a while since the Feature
Exhibit was consistently so lively
and popular! Only thing that would
have made it better was hand-washing
stations. Wizards touch a lot of stuff.

I also was completely caught off guard to meet Jason. Jason politely came over as Rob and I were plotting our next meander and introduced himself as a big fan and follower of my “It’s the Fair” Instagram account. I’m pretty sure I just blinked at him as I tried to process what he was telling me. He then went on to say he actually works for the Fair and relies on my posts to see how things are going. MIND BLOWN!! We’re already connected on Instagram and I desperately hope we get to Talk Fair all year long, especially in the cold, drippy depths of winter.

I'm reaaallly hoping Jason doesn't
regret introducing himself.
 I'm also super excited to have a new
friend named Linda who also follows
my Fair posts and might be an even
bigger Fair Fan than I am! Next year
we'll get a photo and you can see 
what I mean. Spoiler alert: Tattoo! 

We closed out the Fair with both of Jerry Harris’s hypnosis shows. ALWAYS a great time. I will forever be grateful for Jerry – and for the Fine Fair Folks for inviting him as entertainment year after year. Watching Jerry’s shows and learning about the benefits of hypnosis eventually gave me the courage to find a local hypnotherapist to tackle my chronic back pain some years ago. Hypnosis didn’t eliminate my pain, but it made a huge dent in it and gave me portions of my life back that I thought were gone forever. THANK YOU, JERRY!  THANK YOU FINE FAIR FOLKS!

Our last task of the night was going on a 4-H Scavenger hunt for our neighbor Karoline. Out-of-state commitments prevented the 15-year-old from being able to pick up all her exhibits and ribbons at the end of the Fair, so we volunteered to collect them for her. She gave us an easy-to-follow list and we had quite a fun time scurrying from Photography to Baking to Garden to Sewing to gather Karoline’s hard work and the many colorful ribbons to show for it.

A few folks who clearly do not know
me asked me if I had made the dress.
The only thing I make with a sewing
machine is knots of thread and 
unladylike comments.


GREAT JOB, FINE FAIR FOLKS!

There were a number of things this year that were new that I REALLY appreciated.

I LOVED the new, sturdy plastic benches that I hope are slowly replacing the rickety wooden yellow ones. The new benches were wisely placed in the shade near a mister, which made them very popular. Sadly, I only got to sit on a new bench once, but it was super comfy. Nevertheless. I desperately hope to purchase one of those old yellow benches for Woodhaven someday. Having a little piece of the Fair next to our barn would make me giddy! And yes, I’ve mentioned this heart’s desire to a few Fine Fair Folks. Fingers crossed!

As much as I love the old yellow benches,
these new ones sort of elevated the vibe
and also looked less scary to sit on

I also loved the new signage. Although I didn’t need directions, I loved the arrow pointers scattered around the Fairgrounds to help newbies get around. Please never put one next to the Gazebo, though, Fine Fair Folks. I don’t want to be out of a job!

Nice touch! Helpful yet unobtrusive.

Having Curly the Camel on the Fairgrounds was a blast! I visited him often, just to gaze and say hello. I also loved seeing the wide eyes of excitement when I asked kids who stopped by the Gazebo if they had seen the camel yet. I SO hope he’s a repeat resident!

How adorable is that sign?! Almost
as adorable as Curly himself.

He's such a good boy! And quite
busy during December as part of a
live Nativity. Can't wait to see him again! 

And, as always, My Beloved Fair is the cleanest Fair I have seen. They must hire a summer camp’s worth of teenagers to haul trash, clean tables, and restock bathrooms. The kids do a great job and we do our best to thank them throughout the Fair.

They work really hard! Thank you
Cleaning Crew!

BOO!

I was heartbroken not to see the Harbor Patrol Dixieland Band this year. This band of old guys playing horns and clarinets and some strings has been one of the things I always listen for at My Beloved Fair. The purely Americana music wafting around the midway is Perfectly Fair, and I deeply missed stopping for a spell to listen to songs that make me want to wear a gingham dress and bake a cherry pie.

I took this photo at last year's Fair. I fear I might
not see them again. I've actually been listening to
Dixieland music on YouTube while writing today.
That may or may not have been a good idea.

Ok, so I totally understand the need to save seats in the Grandstands. You want to make sure all your favorite people gather ‘round you to watch cars and trucks break apart in the dirt. And not everybody arrives at the same time. I get it. I save seats, too. And I have some VERY kind friends (I’m looking at you, Shelley) who often save seats for me when I get delayed in a food line.

But saving seats using a duct-taped blanket and then showing up later is not very sporting. Moseying into the Grandstands in the middle of the day when nobody is there, taping down your blanket, and then waltzing in for the show after the crowd is assembled is kinda sorta really very much rudely arrogant. Worse? Taping down your blanket and then never showing up. What the heck, people?!?

In my Fair world, if you want to save seats, you must have at least one representative in person holding down the fort. Claiming your own personally reserved seats for your own use on your whim is not nice. And not Fair. Personally, I think there needs to be a rule – and SIGNS – that say 7 simple words: “SOMEONE MUST BE PRESENT TO SAVE SEATS.”  I’ll even help put them up for next year!

See all those empty seats around me?
That's because we arrived EARLY
and STAYED there to get the seats I
 need to keep my back happy.
Speaking of happy, look at those carbs! Mmmm!

I don’t want to end on a rant, so instead I will end as I have the previous 9 days: with food and earrings.

Thank you all, dear readers, for coming along with me for the past 10 days of utter fun, laughs, calories, and the sweet escape of time with friends and cute animals. And thank you to my most favorite Fair Buddy – the man who carries my stuff, buys me food, reminds me to sleep, drives while I edit photos, and smiles at me with pure love when he sees me soaking in every drop of My Beloved Fair. Thank you for fairing with me, Rob. I’m the luckiest.

Holding back the tears as we left
last night. I am so grateful for this life.

Spotted in Tillamook.
 Oh, to have his-n-hers t-shirts!

  FINAL FAIR FOOD FEAST COLLAGE

TOP ROW:
Water with a Watermelon rapid hydration
packet mixed in. It worked! No insane headache
all day!

Bahn Mi Salad with extra spice. Yes, a salad. 
And yes, it verged on healthy. But it was SO
GOOD! It was also $19 and totally overpriced.
I should have gotten the Kid's portion for half 
the price. Still, hope they come back next year!

MIDDLE ROW:
Strawberry Smasher! The last one of the year, 
unless I want to go to Bingen in September for the
Huckleberry Festival... Hmmm.

Chocolate Cookies n Cream Milkshake!
Very good and very chocolatey...but I 
surprisingly (for me) prefer the strawberry
version instead. Also note the cup from a
Fair of Years Past. They ran out of cups for
this year. YAY MILKSHAKE BARN!

BOTTOM ROW:
Old timey pastrami sandwich from the
Church Ladies Pie booth. I wanted something
downhomey and simple for dinner. Nailed it!

Three-Berry Pie -- blackberry, blueberry, and
raspberry. SO GOOD! Those church ladies 
never disappoint.

Fairwell elephant ear from the stand next
to the milkshake barn. Our only one of the year
and it was worth the wait. Doughy, buttery,
lots of sugar and cinnamon. The perfect ending.

 

LAST DAY’S EARRINGS

I consider these earrings the most "adult"
of my collection. Easing back into Real Life.

 

 

Sunday, August 13, 2023

FAIR DAY 9 ~ Crowds but no crabs

Wow! Adam the Magician said he’s pretty sure the entire county came to the Fair today. I’m pretty sure he’s right. Goodness, it was crowded! But gratefully, it didn’t feel unsafe and vibratey like it did that one awful day last year.

Nevertheless, the lines for food and drink were the longest I’ve seen all Fair. And they ran out of parking at some point late afternoon. And the Grandstands were closed at capacity before the evening Tuff Trucks started. Rob and I were working in the Gazebo from 3:00-8:00pm, so we were largely protected from the crowds and instead watched them stream by. It was also hot. A nearby weather station says it got to 88 degrees. With all the asphalt on the Fairgrounds, my money says it got to at least low 90s. With more to come tomorrow.  Yikes!

Early in the afternoon, so you can still see
some pavement.

Speaking of money, before we moseyed over to the Gazebo, we stopped in the Auction Ring to watch some very dedicated kids auction off their animal projects for big bucks. It takes a very mature, focused human to spend all year caring for and raising an animal only to give it away. And not to “a good home” – to a good dinner plate. I know I couldn’t do it. Or, at least I know I don’t want to try.

Listening in on the auction is always fun. The auctioneer is the same guy every year and he’s GOOD. He knows the tight family of bidders and local companies supporting the kids. He makes jokes. He has fun. He talks super fast. The vibe in the Auction Ring is all business, but it is also one of community support. (Click here to see and listen!)

The steers we watched being auctioned off were going for $10,000-$15,000. That is a huge deposit in a college fund! That being said, when Rob and I were chatting with some Goat Sellers who stopped by the Gazebo later, they were telling us their goats got $2,000-$3,000. “We came after the steers, so there wasn’t any money left,” one young teen wise to the world explained.

They bid per pound, plus people
can "add on" with donations
that go to the kid without buying
any part of the animal. By our best
calculations (did I mention the 
auctioneer talks FAST?), that young
boy walked away from his cow with
over $13,000.

We had a busy shift in the Gazebo. We probably only sat down for a total of about 20 minutes over the 5 hours. It was nice and breezy, so we didn’t melt, although many of the parents dragging themselves to our window looked pretty wiped out. We do rain very well here in the Pacific Northwest, but we are kind of wimpy when it comes to heat (and snow, but that’s another season).

We had the standard questions about where to find the nearest restroom, water fountain, butterfly exhibit, and the animal barns. We directed lots of teenagers to the carnival to buy ride wristbands. A Portland roofing company was holding its employee picnic in the Hospitality Park, so we got to direct a lot of Oregonians to their celebration while also welcoming them to our Fair. I got to stretch my legs by taking a found cell phone down to the Lost and Found. One tween boy asked if I could change a $5 for five $1s (uncharacteristically, I could). A fellow Gen Xer asked where she could find cotton candy on a stick, not in a boring bag. One girl asked where the Gazebo was (she was quite delighted when we told her).

By far the most unusual question, however, came from a pair of Russian men in their late-20s. They beelined over to our array of plastic animals serving as prizes and asked with an accent, “Got any crabs?” Even after verifying what we heard, we were still mystified. And apologetic that no, all we could offer was dinosaurs and the occasional hippo and rhinoceros. And they weren’t free – they had to earn them by completing our Passport Fan. Disappointed, the determined men quickly turned and headed down the midway towards the butterflies and parrots. I can guarantee you, they did not find crabs anywhere on the Fairgrounds.

Note the shirt!  
I absolutely LOVE working in the
Gazebo! Today we brought some
prizes leftover from a fizzled
community project, so a couple
dozen lucky kids got bubbles
and coloring books! And I got
room in a storage closet!
Everyone's a winner!

After dinner and a chat with Smashers Stan (he’s selling A LOT of Smashers this year! He was wondering if he would run out of cups before the end of the night – fortunately he has a stash at home for tomorrow), we stood in a long line for the Ferris Wheel. It is the only carnival ride my back allows me to enjoy. It’s a tradition for me and Rob to ride it at sunset at least once during the Fair. Tonight was the night.

LOVE THIS VIEW!


LOVE THIS MAN!

FAIR FOOD FEAST COLLAGE

TOP ROW:
Mojito Spindrift! I should
have had two of these -- I got a 
bit dehydrated with the heat.

Irish Sundae with the Works! A
Fair Favorite for many folks. A baked
potato with cheese, sour cream, bacon,
sausage, and chives. Very tasty! The
bacon was much better than past years -
actual bacon and not those crunchy 
bacon-like bits. The sausage tasted more
like a breakfast sausage and less like a
pizza sausage. I prefer pizza sausage.
The chives looked a little wiped out
from the heat, too. But even with those
tiny gripes, still a solid lunch.

Corn on the cob doused with lots
of butter, salt, and Tajin. This
high sodium intake might have 
contributed to my dehydration 
headache several hours later. 

MIDDLE ROW:
Strawberry Mango Smasher!
My favorite!

Strawberry Cookies n Cream
milkshake! I had to stand in line for about
a half hour to get this and it was worth every
minute. Thanks for holding down the 
Gazebo for me, Rob!

Corn dog from the stand across
from Lions. Really good! it was more 
dog than batter...and the dog was beef.
I quite liked this. But if you like more corn
batter on your corn dog, I'd go to the Lions 
booth across the way instead.

BOTTOM:
Mediocre French fries from the
stand across from the Lions booth.
Not very crisp or flavorful. We added
lots of salt and ketchup. The Lions 
booth has better fries.

 TODAY’S EARRINGS

Corn dogs! My earrings are small
enough, that I caught people
distractedly staring at them all day
trying to figure out what they were